The First Biological Imperative
by carrigan111
Summary: She was the thorn in his side, the fly in his ointment, the chaos to his order. And the Kryptonite to his libido. The past is about to drop by to say 'Hi.'
1. Chapter 1

A;n, Honestly? I have _No_ idea what I'm doing. Wrote one tiny little blip of a bunny that's been chasing me for years (The Rabid kind), saw the reviews, and thought, 'Well that wasn't too painful.' And so I thought I'd give this a go.

My obsession is showing, init?

Not mine. Don't own. Just having fun.

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The war's over, for her at least. Voldermort's dead. Harry's alive. Ron's alive. And by some miraculous Twist of Fate, she's alive, and whole. Well, maybe not whole, but she's not broken, that's more than can be said for most. There's joy and grief and, quite possibly, a ham sandwich somewhere in her future.

She's young, and alive, and free, and the world is her mollusc.

...So why, 'Some one please, _Why?_' can't she feel it. Why does she feel so old? Why does she feel so dead inside, so empty? Why does it feel as though a part of her, the _Greatest _part of her, died today? Why does she feel so _Trapped!? _She's eighteen, and Ron's already discussing extensions to the Burrow, and baby names, '_Wha' d'ya recon to Chuddley, tha's alrigh for a boys_ _name, Mione, innit?'. _

By accident, subconscious design, or the whim of some perverse cosmic deity that she's not sure she believes in (despite Harry's little OBE), she finds her self standing before the door to the Potion Maters office. The office hasn't been used since Snape gave up the position in her sixth year. (Gods forbid Slughorn should have to climb the extra straircase on his way to lunch.) The office _Should _be empty. It's quite patently not.

Not that she really expected it to be. She has unfinished business here after all. And he had promised to wait for her.

candles burn in the wall sconces, a heavy iron cauldron chugs away quietly on a bench at the far side of the room. Three rucksacks lay bulging neatly just inside the door. Two blonds argue quietly, but fiercely before the bookshelves that cover the entire left wall, they are almost entirely identical in every feature, save an inch or two in height and breadth, and a slightly more squared jaw. suddenly the cauldron makes sense.

"variation on Polyjuice?" Her voice startles the blonds into silence, but her question wasn't directed at them. It was directed at the raven haired, not quite dead, former Headmaster, that has stood at his desk watching her silently and intently since she walked in. A cautious nod is the only acknowledgement she receives.

She hears the startled, "_What's She doing here?"_ followed by the hushed and slightly deeper, _"Be still boy!"_ to her left.

A beat. And then another. And then, "Have you decided?" His tone is flat, his face expressionless. But there's a burning..._Something_ in his eye's.

There really isn't any choice, is there? And she say's so. "It's either stay here and stagnate, propagating the next generation of Weasleys by squeezing out a ginger menace every two years. confine myself to a life of mediocre drudgery at the Ministry, turning out work that I could have completed in my third year, regardless of the department I end up working for. Or find mum and dad," He has never acknowledged that she is 'Flesh of his Flesh', not from the moment it was discovered, but she's seen it. She's had to learn to look for it, but it's there, in the tightening of his knuckles, the grim line of his mouth every time she mentions her parents. "Not entirely sure that's the better option?"

Something very strange is happening to the laws of time and physics. One minute she's jabbering at him, swaying slightly as she tries to focus on him, and in the next he's right before her, holding her steady as he stares at her in concern. Although, true to form, not an ounce of that concern comes through in his voice. "I'm sorry, but somewhere in among all that verbal dhioria, were you saying you're coming with me?"

There's a naked hope in his eye's. It's terrifying, and strange, and raw, and, she thinks, _'Utterly exhilarating.'_

"Yes please, Daddy." It's the first time Hermione Granger, and Severus Snape, come together as father and daughter. This hug, this all encompassing hug that lifts her off her feet, is the acknowledgement she's been waiting for. It's just a shame that it's accompanied by the sound of Draco Malfoy passing out.


	2. Chapter 2

A;n. Because this is an AU (Ignoring the DH epilogue) for Hermione, It seemed to make sense that the first few chapters focus on Hermione's time line, and from her perspective.

I tried writing a brief back story, and filler, to bring Hermione's story to the present. It, err, Really didn't work. So I played with it a bit, and found that writing it as diary entries just..worked!

Thanks for your reviews.

Don't own. Making no money. Just having fun.

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_Dear Diary 3/4/98_

_Lucius and Draco have left. They slipped away this morning while I was sleeping. And Gods help me, but I think I'm going to miss them!_

_Draco is...well, 'Damaged' doesn't really come close. And yet, over the last few months, of hellish uncertainty, he's proven himself to be reliable, dependable, and selfless._

_Severus, still suffering some lingering side effects of Nagini's venom, had been of little physical use for well over a month. And Lucius, poor sod, had been a shell, little more than an automaton, after Narsissa's death. So naturally I thought the bulk of work (keeping the Four of us fed, hidden, and warm) would fall on my shoulders. I expected to carry the lions share, but was pleasantly surprised by Draco's willingness to get stuck in._

_He never grumbled or moaned (Ron), Or had to be told what to do (Harry). He just got on with it. Even ordered me out from under foot more than once._

_In fact, now that I think about it, we are...disturbingly alike._

_Okay, yes, he IS still an arrogant, sarcastic, obnoxious git, but...But...He's the loving son, who spent week's washing, dressing, and hand feeding his father, ignoring his own grief, his own pain, untill his father was present enough to look after himself._

_He's the man that sat with me through two hopeless, sleepless nights, distracting me with a steady stream of inane chatter, bad jokes, and good coco, while Severus hovered some where between life and death after relapsing._

_He's the friend who spent hours massaging the agony out of me, when the 'Staggers' (a lasting side effect of prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse) hit. I find it hard to remember a time when we were Ever enemies. Who's going to feed my coco addiction now?_

_And Lucius...The delightfully perverse fallen angel...I don't just like him. I find, (Much to my consternation) that I Adore Him! I know I shouldn't, I just can't seem to help it._

_Lucius, with his gargantuan ego, his overblown grandiosity, his shockingly FILTHY sense of humor, is the closest thing to a True Friend, Severus has ever had. For that alone I could have learned to like him. And yet,It is for all the small, silent gestures, that I have learned to love him; The way he would bully Severus into eating, or for always being the first to catch him when he stumbled, or for carrying him when his legs failed, and his muscles atrophied, for standing unflinching as Draco, took swing after swing at him, for helping his son bathe his knuckles even as his own face began to bruise._

_Family means Everything to Lucius. Severus, is his brother, in all but blood, his Family. And as I am Severus' daughter..._

_...Yes, I'll miss them, my quiet, helpful, sarcastic friend, and my devastatingly handsome, lecherous uncle._

_Dear Diary 26/6/98_

_Severus thinks we've spent long enough looking over our shoulders. I'm not sure if that's blind faith talking, or the anti venom he still has to take twice a day. We break camp in the morning, and head for Manchester._

_Oh joy._

_Dear Diary 27/6/98_

_I don't know what I was expecting, but Spinners End, is most definitely Not It!_

_I had visions of a grim, shabby, Victorian tenement, in some old run down industrial town, and...well, yes, it's all of the above, but...the Potins Lab in the basement! The attic that's been converted into an Observatory! The Book's! Good Gods The BOOKS! Now I understand Draco's jibe about needing a bib if were ever lucky enough to see the library. He wasn't wrong._

_It's almost worth the skittish tension between Severus and I. I've yet to find any commonality between us beyond our aptitude for magic, and our tempers._

_Although, having seen the neat rows of tins in the kitchen cupboard, all sorted alphabetically and by sell-by-date, it's likely that we can add OCD to the short list of things we have in common._

_Dear Diary 5/8/98_

_It's. Not. Fair!_

_We were making progress...Geniune Progress. We'd found our 'Common Ground', so to speak. Alright, so I hadn't expected our commonality to be a shared love of all things Star Trek, and comic book related. But we were 'Talking!' sharing something other than silent meals, stilted conversation, and furious mock duels to,"Prepare" me for the "Real world." like the last seven years hadn't been preparation enough._

_Severus has even shared his guilty pleasure-Football-and was over the moon when he discovered that I'v been a Man City fan from the cradle._

_I don't know how Severus got those tickets, and I didn't care. I wasn't going to risk the silly smiles we'd been sharing at breakfast, or the game of "Sooo, who would be in your dream line up?" we had begun playing at dinner time, or the quiet evenings full of equally quiet dreams of the future._

_We walked into that stadium, beaming like idiots. A father taking his daughter to see a match. We were NOT expecting to see Dawlish and a team of Aurors._

_We legged it!_

_Everything we own is now crammed inside two magically extended rucksack, and Spinners end is a pile of smoldering ash, miles away from this shitty little Bnb._

_Dear Diary 12/10/98_

_We're on the move again tomorrow. "This Time," Dad said. ''Will be the last."_

_I'm for Oxford, with a foolproof fake Id, (One of Dad's less than savoury friends) and a completely bogus history of epic proportion; So sad...Mother died infancy..Home schooled by the Father...Tested of the chart...Quite the Prodigy...(liberally applied memory charms)_

_Dad, under extreme duress, and after many threats (Lucius), bribes (Lucius again), and emotional blackmail ("Please Dad, you've got to go, I can't stand the thought of what will happen if they find you. You're all I've got left." I'm not ashamed) has agreed to join the Mlfoys in Paris._

_I'm feeling a bit...fragile, at the moment. Imagine that, Hermione G...SNAPE. Hermione Snape, scared of school?!_


End file.
